


Dying By The Hand Of A Foreign Man

by your_taxidermy



Series: Adventures Of An Antivan Assassin [1]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Antiva City, Antivan Crows, Assassination, F/M, Seduction, Zevran being Zevran, Zevran being a little bastard, Zevran being sassy, i just love him!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-04-11
Packaged: 2019-04-20 22:33:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14270952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/your_taxidermy/pseuds/your_taxidermy
Summary: “The Antivan Crows send their regards, my dear.”





	Dying By The Hand Of A Foreign Man

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted this to be longer but it seems alright <3

Antiva City, Antiva; 

 

_ Home of riches, whores, and The Crows, it really was a dandy place indeed.  _

_ Most importantly, it was home to Zevran, probably the most handsome and skilled elf assassin in all of Thedas, and he knew it. He was skilled in many talents, needed eye candy on your side? Check. Needed to forget the world for a night… or two? Check.  _

 

_ Zevran was the man who could do all, and much more. But for the time being, he was hired for a very hefty sum of money to assassinate Denerim noblewoman Rosemary Nilson, age 34. She made the very very bold mistake of losing her temper on a member of The Crows without knowing it at a meeting; now she would pay with her life.  _

 

_ Zevran was informed she was very beautiful so he happily took the offer and set out to see her while she was still in Antiva City. He stalked the rooftops, much like a sly fox, watching the townspeople make their way through the streets, he saw at least three pickpockets only from the roof. The warm summer evening was setting in, the night was ever so welcoming with gentle breezes and the shimmering stars from above. It was beautiful.  _

 

_ Gold was everywhere, on the people, the buildings, carriages. Antiva was a golden city seemingly blessed by the Maker himself. Zevran was so proud of such things, knowing he hailed from the prettiest city in the world, perhaps it rivaled Orlais to some.  _

 

_ The air was warm and inviting, a gentle heat. Zevran scaled the buildings with ease, his cape flying behind him. He donned a crow mask to his hide face, oh, how it pained him to hide the best thing about him. Though it really was worth it.  _

 

_ Zevran followed her carriage, hoping she was as pretty as his mates said, they were never wrong in that regard. Only Zevran was torn, mixing business and pleasure was tricky indeed.  Though, seduction was the easiest way to lure them into his web of lies and blood. He could already taste the blood that would soon be spilled on his blade, he could already hear her muffled screams as he clamped his hand over her mouth to silence her agony. It was all thrilling, like galloping in an open field on a warhorse, going up hills and slashing at enemies with a blade so deadly sharp it could slice clean through glass without leaving a crack.  _

 

_ All this was racing through his mind as he darted across the buildings, climbing freely like a bird in the treetops. He moved with the grace of a gazelle, his strides long and elegant, his feet barely making a sound on the surface. He was fast, faster than lightning, trailing her from the skies, much like a crow hunting for mice.  _

 

_ But he saw her as a mouse, small, fearful when confronted… and him?  _

 

_ The hunter, the hungry crow ready to swoop down and take his meal all to himself. He would eat her up, lick his fingers from the blood, and carry on with the night. He enjoyed what he did, he was forced to enjoy it.  _

 

_ It was all he knew, it was his entire life, his being, his religion and his identity.  _

 

_ The closer her death came, the more excited he was about it. His blood was flowing, sweet and delicious it was, hot like freshly poured steel. He could not help but bite his lip in anticipation, wondering which blade he would use, how he would kill her.  _

 

_ Would he kiss her before? Perhaps.  _

 

_ He had to find some way to enjoy it, even if it meant blocking out all emotion while doing so.  _

_ Though he didn’t feel remorse or sadness, he had grown so ice cold to it.  _

 

_ His outsides were warm, tender, and sweet. Inviting and luscious, ready for the act of seduction or to be the seduced.  _

 

_ His insides were frozen, cold, and he found nothing to really melt his ice-cold heart, The Crows would not allow such a thing to be done to him. He belonged to them, waiting for command and orders to carry out.  _

 

_ He stopped in his tracks when he saw the carriage stop at an inn. Why not stop and be sociable, it wouldn’t hurt anyone just yet.  _

 

_ Besides, he did need to stop and grab a drink. Getting to know his next victim wouldn’t hurt either, it was a mind game on his part, he enjoyed seeing the victims smile at him, blushing at his sweet words, or even the not so sweet ones.  _

 

_ “You there--!!”   _

 

_ A rooftop guardsmen.  _

 

_ Zevran didn’t let him finish the sentence. With razor-sharp wit, he threw a dagger into the man’s neck, blood pouring from the neck wound. Zevran trotted to the man and grabbed his hand before he could fall back and land in the middle of the street. He ripped the knife from the flesh and shook off the blood, slipping it back on his leg. He dragged the body away from the edge and went on to stalk his prey.  _

 

_ The Bella, Antiva  _

 

_ Rosemary stopped at an inn that doubled as a tavern to rest from her travels. Zevran followed her, jumping down from window to window, lowering himself to the ground. He removed his mask and slipped it on his side, he looked like a normal traveler or adventurer!  _

 

_ He followed her to the bar, taking a seat beside her, shooting her a smile.  _

 

_ “Enjoying Antiva?” he mused.  _

 

_ “I am indeed, thank you… I take it you are a native?”  _

_ “Si, my good woman. And you? Where do you hail from?”  _

_ “I am from Denerim, in Ferelden. ‘Tis a lovely city, the jewel, really.”  _

_ Zevran cocked a brow. “I think you are the jewel, my dear lady.”  _

 

_ The woman’s cheek’s flared into a raging blush. She cleared her throat and gathered herself. “I was unaware Antiva was home to such charming elves.” She replied, turning towards him. _

 

_ The scent of the inn was sweet and light, warm and delicate. Lovers kissed, siblings embraced, men drank, and women danced. It was harmony with dashes of sin and debauchery hidden plain as day. Zevran was in the middle of charming his next victim, telling her how beautiful she was, even though he was only waiting to kill her. “Oh is this so? Antiva is home to many things, mi amore! Surely you want to learn them, hm?”  _

 

_ “Who am I to object? My guardsmen have been complaining ever since we came!”  _

_ “Tsk, tsk. I hope they did not spoil your trip? I could always make it up to you, my dear.”  _

 

_ Zevran was pulling her in, trapping her for good this time. There was nowhere she could run as she was infatuated with him now. They always said humans loved elves the most, they were viewed as beautiful after all.  _

 

_ Zevran held that standard just by existing. He had the most beautiful eyes she had ever seen, striking and perfectly shaped, warm and inviting. Just as the night settles in, the evening sun is still out there, ready to dive deep into the oceans until the next morning. Antiva was always the first to be kissed by the sun’s rays.  _

 

_ “Could you now? What have you got in mind?” she rested her chin in her palm, her long and dainty fingers resting against her cheeks. Her cheeks were rosy, thanks to the elf. She had beautiful long brown hair, soft and wavy, how Zevran wanted to grab a handful for himself. She donned a white pair of stockings, so clean and perfect, it was a shame they would be stained with blood soon enough.  _

 

_ He grinned, shifting in his seat, his leather boots squeaking against the barstool.  _

 

_ “Whatever you desire? I can escort you through Antiva City, perhaps show you the docks? If we run quickly, we can watch the sun kiss the horizon. It would be romantic.”  _

 

_ His offer was getting hard to refuse.  _

 

_ “Alright, I can’t say no to that. And… your name, sir?”  _

 

_ “Call me Zevran, come, my dear, we have little time to waste!’  _

 

_ Zevran made it appoint to hide her from her guards who were playing cards in the corner, wasting their money away on shameless bets. He didn’t care.  _

 

_ “Antiva is beautiful,” she started, holding his hand a bit tighter. Zevran grinned and pulled her closer to his side, sliding his arm around her, wanting to cop a feel at her hips, though he was a gentleman!  _

 

_ The streets were packed, people from all over the map were scattered around like blown sand. Zevran inhaled her sweet scent from her hair, lavender, and rosemary, such a sweet scent indeed. The sun was setting when they found themselves hidden by the docks, the warm Antivan rays shining on them for a final time. “I must admit,” she began, bringing a gloved hand to his lips, the dark green lace tickling his luscious lips. He kissed her fingertips and grasped her hand and gazed into her eyes.  _ __  
_  
_ __ She lost herself in his irises, they were dark, captivating, it was painfully obvious he was mentally undressing her. “...You really are a very handsome elf,” she cooed, brushing his lip down. “Grazie, mi amore…” he whispered, running his fingers along the lace over her hand. “Nothing better than a kiss by the ocean, my dear, hm? May I have the honors?” He asked, pulling her slightly closer to him. 

 

_ She thought for a moment.  _

 

_ What the hell, why not?  _

 

_ “I’d… like that very much, Zevran.”  _

 

_ With those words, he kissed her deeply, softly.  _

 

_ Little did she know he was seconds away from stabbing her in the back!  _

 

_ He pulled away, in truth she hated pulling away more than he did.  _

 

_ “It’s… been a long time since I’ve been kissed like that,” she trailed, thinking back to his wine flavored lips. “Then why don’t I fix that tonight, hm? Another kiss won’t kill you, will it?”  _

 

_ “I suppose not, come… follow me, I saw a very nice inn we can stay at.”  _

_ “Lead the way, my dear.”  _

 

_ The moment she turned her back to him, was the moment she said goodbye to her life.  _

 

_ He stabbed her in the back.  _

 

_ Brutally.  _

 

_ He didn’t let her fall, he grabbed her before she could hit the ground. He ripped it from her flesh and shook off the blood.  _

 

_ “The Antivan Crows send their regards, my dear.” _

 

_ He dropped her in the water as she drew her last breath, he heavy dress sinking to the bottom. _

 

_ Zevran made sure she sank to the bottom, seeing no trace of her. He slipped his knife back into its case.  _

 

_ He slipped his crow mask back on and lost himself in the city, taking back streets, tossing a bit of gold to a beggar he saw. He wasn’t that much a monster!  _

 

_ He inhaled the warm scent of the leather factory filling the air, he had grown so fond it over his life, he never grew tired of it. It was musky and few actually enjoyed it, but  Zev did love his city far too much!  _

 

_ Now, the sun was gone and he found himself roaming the city, hearing the woman’s guards calling for her in the distance. He made a mad dash and scaled the building beside him, looking over Antiva city as the lights died out.  _

 

_ His precious Antiva.  _


End file.
